And Everything Nice
by rocksaltandcaramel
Summary: A collection of oneshots and twoshots from various AUs about Dean and a variety of girls. Funtimes, fluff, some amount of drama and hurt/comfort. Basically fun, self-indulgent nonsense with an attempt at not writing total Mary-Sues. Mind the rating.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This will be a two-shot. June Carter (not the historical one) Universe, which is one of several AUs this collection will explore. Set in a mildly alternate season 6, after Dean has broken up with Lisa and before Sam has gotten his soul back. Assume more time passes between those two events than in canon and Dean has developed a sporadic sort of relationship with fellow hunter June Carter. Mostly mindless sex and fluff.

 **Walk the Line**

 **Part 1**

Is it a bad sign about your relationship when your occasional lover calls and you don't know whether you should be happy or worried? Or is it just a sign that your occasional lover is a Winchester? I press 'accept', not daring to hope that he's just calling to chat.

"Dean?"

"Hi, Junnie."

"Hey! What's going on?"

"Nothing, just… checking on you."

"And you're checking on me because…?"

"Just because. Where are you?"

"Vegas, if you'll believe it. How about you?"

"Place called Summerland, one state over from you. It's a friggin' vacation spot. I'm looking at the beach and everything. You working?"

"Yup. We think it might be cursed dice. Doesn't get more boring than that. If all goes well, we'll make it to the Cirque du Soleil matinee. You?"

"Don't know what I've got here yet, I'll check it out tonight. Cirque du Soleil, huh? That's… awesome."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, why?"

"You just called Cirque du Soleil awesome. No remarks about how you feel sorry for my father for having to suffer through two hours of men in colourful tights?"

"Hey, I can appreciate art!"

"Oh, I know. You just don't normally admit to it. Come on, what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on. Well, apart from monsters. They're going on and on like Celine Dion's friggin' heart."

"How's Sam?"

A pause. A sigh. He knows he's busted.

"I don't know. He's gone."

"What do you mean gone?"

"Apparently, he really, really doesn't want his soul back. We had a fight a few days ago. He left without telling me."

"Dean, how is that nothing going on? So what, are you looking for him?"

He sighs again. "I don't know. There's no trail, he doesn't want to be found… Cas is not even answering prayers anymore... Look, never mind, okay? I've got a job to do here and Sam can do whatever he wants."

"So you're hunting solo?"

"Not exactly. A friend of Bobby's called for backup on a case."

"So you don't need help?"

"No... No. I just wanted to… say hi."

"Dean…"

"Yeah."

"Babe, you sound a little lonely."

"Neah… I'll be all right. It's not the first time Sam's taken off. Look, I've gotta go. Enjoy the men in tights and take care, okay?"

I don't offer to go to him right away because I don't know what might go wrong on my own hunt – even with something as simple as cursed dice. As it turns out though, it's all smooth sailing. I help my parents finish the hunt and then we enjoy the men in tights. I even catch a couple hours of sleep but then I hire a car and head to Summerland, CA. I know he'll probably survive without me but I also know that he hates being alone and a few too many people have been dumping him lately.

I try to call him a few times but the line is always busy. Hopefully that means he's keeping in touch with his temporary partner. The last two calls don't connect at all but I try not to worry, figuring he's probably out of battery by that point. In the small hours of the morning, going on the little information I have, I make an educated guess and stop in front of the cheapest motel that has a view of the ocean, since he mentioned looking at it. I'm not disappointed. The Impala is easy enough to spot in the motel parking lot. As I park next to it, I'm surprised to see it's occupied.

To my relief, Dean startles awake when I knock on the car window. It takes him a second to focus on me and recognise that I'm not a threat. Then he pushes the door open and stares up at me.

"June?"

"Hey, tiger. You okay?"

"I'm… fine. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Intruding on your cuddling session with the love of your life, apparently. I swear, even having sex in this car always feels like joining a married couple for a threesome."

That earns me a chuckle. "Wow, that's giving me the weirdest… That's just wrong." His eyes linger on me for a moment and he seems to relax a fraction. Humour, even if it's not particularly witty, tends to put him at ease – something we have in common. "I thought you were in Nevada."

"I was."

"You drove here from Nevada? That's what, like, twelve hours?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"A girl's got needs and, unfortunately, mine can't be satisfied by a car."

He snorts but there's a look of surprised gratitude in his eyes. Sometimes he doesn't accept an 'I love you' if you say it to his face but he'll buy it if you wrap it in a stupid joke – another thing we have in common.

"I tried to call you," I say.

"Sorry, I was hardly off the phone with that old jerk until my battery died. You think Bobby's grouchy and stubborn? Wait 'till you meet this guy."

"What did the thing turn out to be?"

"Garden variety ghost but with bones scattered in three fucking places. Just finished it off."

"Are you in one piece?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Couple of bruises, nothing interesting. Just tired."

"So tired you couldn't make it out of the car and to your bed?"

"Well, that, and the room was kind of depressing. No magic fingers."

I roll my eyes and tug at his jacket. "Come on. Inside."

He smirks, finally steps out of the car and locks the door.

The room isn't actually that terrible but, to my mild surprise, there are two single beds. _In case Sam comes back_ , I realise. Figures. He hasn't expected his practically-girlfriend to check on him but he has – probably unconsciously – been hoping his soulless brother would reappear.

He notices what I'm looking at and pretends to be suddenly preoccupied with removing his jacket and getting a beer.

"If you're tired enough to fall asleep in the car shouldn't you head straight to bed?"

He waves a hand. "Neah. I'm awake now."

I shrug and ruffle his hair a little on the way to the radio. I'm willing to indulge him today so I find a classic rock station. I turn the volume to low and start emptying the backpack I'm carrying on one of the beds. I'm halfway through when I hear Dean smother a laugh and look over my shoulder. He's perched on the edge of the other bed now, beer in hand.

"What?" I ask.

He lifts an amused eyebrow. "Pickles?"

I look back at the pile of mostly-backpack-unfriendly food I've just dumped. I've purchased it on the way here. There is, indeed, a jar of pickles, as well as a carton of chocolate milk, both of which have only remained un-spilled by some miracle. There is also a pineapple, a pack of cream, cherry tomatoes, three types of cheese, a small tube of mustard, sausages, bread, and a cardboard box, the contents of which I hope will be of particular interest. If they aren't, then I'll get really worried.

I shrug. "I sometimes like to pretend I'm a fridge, okay?"

He sniggers. I cross my arms in mock indignation. "Fine then, laugh at me. You don't get any pie."

Predictably, he perks. "You brought pie?"

I lift the cardboard box. "Yeah but you've just lost your right to it. You have to respect the pickles to get pie."

"You're weird, you know that?"

"Thank you, kettle, you're black too."

"Fine, I'll respect the pickles. Can I have some pie now?"

"You're covered in mud. Unless you're about to starve, I'd say take a shower first."

"You want one too?"

"Is that an invitation to join you?"

"It's less romantic than it sounds, I just seriously don't know if we have enough hot water for two showers."

I chuckle. "Fair enough."

He's already taking his t-shirt off and tossing it in the corner. I scan him automatically for injuries. Nothing terribly bad but there's a gash in his side which has been hastily stitched together.

"Only bruises, hm? You and your machismo act. "

He glances at his side while unbuckling his jeans. "That's old."

"Like two days old?"

"Five."

"Well, practically ancient then. Your needlework sucks, by the way."

He rolls his eyes. "What do you want me to do, crochet it?"

I grin. "Yeah, that sounds like fun." I cross over to him and sit on the bed to examine the wound. It's more to show concern than because I really think it needs my intervention – he's patched himself up just fine for years before he met me. "We could have little patterns all over you." I draw with a finger on his bare shoulder. "Flowers and things. In pink thread."

"You're hilarious. Would you get undressed? You're delaying my pie."

There's genuine playfulness creeping into his voice now where ten minutes ago the quips were there almost as a sort of shield. I snort, kiss his temple and stand up. I slip out of my clothes in a few quick motions, stripping my sports bra, t-shirt and jumper in one go, kicking my shoes and socks off and finally pushing away my jeans and underwear. By that point he's already in the bathroom so I follow him in and under the spray of the shower, my shampoo in hand. Hunter or not, I'm not using that cheap motel crap. I offer him the bottle and he, predictably, makes a face.

"Hey, I'm not making myself smell like a girl. I think I can live without 'soft hair with no tangles'"

"Whatever, big boy. You'll be sorry when your hair gets all tangled."

We actually both behave for a while and focus on getting clean but while Dean is busy rinsing the final coat of soap off his arms I can't resist the opportunity to quickly rub a handful of my shampoo into his hair.

"June, goddammit!" he whines as I giggle. "Peaches is not a good smell for a guy!"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, you're supposed to stink of sweat, blood and motor oil. Let me tell you, if anyone but me gets to smell your hair, they've gotten too close."

I turn away from him to rinse my own hair. He sneaks an arm around my waist and kisses my shoulder. "Didn't think you were the jealous type."

I smirk and turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck and finally kissing him. I'm not sure why it has taken us this long but this happens sometimes when we haven't seen each other in a while and one of us is tightly wound up – we get a bit tentative, as if we're worried the other one might not want to reciprocate. We usually find our pace again quickly enough but it always gets me wondering why we keep splitting up to begin with. At first it was because it was supposed to be casual and I didn't want to seem clingy, especially since he was still on the rebound after Lisa. Now though… We're good company for each other and it's starting to seem a bit silly to not stick together just because we're trying so hard to pretend that we're not… well, together.

It might be my imagination but I think I feel another little knot in him loosen as he exhales and kisses back. My kiss has been small, playful. His is a little deeper, slower, giving us both time to remember what the other one feels like and to settle back into that comfortable groove. His left hand rests on my hip while his right thumb strokes the small of my back and I move forward, leaning into him, pressing our chests together. My breasts have always been very sensitive and there's immediately a tingle in my belly at the contact. I can feel him getting hard too.

"I get this strange feeling that we'd better save up some hot water for another quick shower," I mutter against his neck.

He laughs and reaches to turn the water off. I give his chest a small kiss and step away. "And we need to get dry before we catch a cold." I head out of the bathroom, grabbing a towel on the way. I don't bother covering up as the room is fairly warm but I towel my hair until it's merely damp. When I finally flick it out of my eyes and look up, he's mostly dried up and he's sitting on one of the beds again, towel draped haphazardly across his lap, watching me. I smirk and walk over to him. "Enjoying the show?"

"You make towels sexy."

I smirk. As long as we keep the banter going, we don't end up feeling too awkwardly cheesy. His hands come to rest lightly on my hips and mine fall on his shoulders. I would expect Dean to be unused to this sort of slow build after years of quick bar hook-ups but then there was Lisa. It must have been different during that year with her.

I really wish I could dislike Lisa but I can't – we'd probably be friends if we knew each other better. It's just that sometimes I can't figure out whether that relationship was practice for this one or this one is a cheap knockoff of that one. I'm still not sure if he can love me or if all I'm going to get is that Dean-specific friendly affection he's so quick to give to people. I'd be head over heels if I knew it was mutual but I'm too pragmatic for unrequited love. Still, I'll be damned if he's not the cutest fucking thing when he gets that twinkle in his eyes.

I trail my fingers up his neck and into his hair and pause. "Wait, what's that smell? Is that peaches? Oh, no, I'm sorry, that's a definite turn-off. It's just so _unmanly_!"

He scowls at me. "Hey!"

I giggle and push him back, following him on the bed. I run a hand over his chest and further down. His eyes slid shut. Then he suddenly opens them and stares at the ceiling, frowning a little.

"Dammit."

"What?"

He glances at me. "Well, I wasn't expecting you so I'm not exactly well-prepared."

"As in...?"

"As in I'm out of condoms."

I burst laughing and kiss him. "I've got it covered." I reach down to the floor where I've left my jeans and pull a condom out of the back pocket. "So either you've been hooking up so much that you ran out or this is a weirdly adorable way to prove that you exclude the possibility of picking up other girls when I'm not around."

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, you carry rubbers in your jeans, what am I supposed to think about that?"

" _I_ knew I was coming here, stupid, and I believe in shared responsibility." I bend down to find his lips again and this time we kiss for much longer, eyes closed, getting lost in the sensation as my right hand massages him and both of his roam over my body. I let out a small hum when he starts playing with my breasts. He's fully hard when he rolls us over and starts sucking on my nipple, grazing it slightly with his teeth. I arch into the touch. If I was a vocal sort of lover I'd be moaning but we both tend to be relatively quiet so my gasp is barely heard over 'Sweet Emotion' coming from the radio. I run my fingers through his hair and only vaguely register when he takes the condom from my other hand. He barely pauses to slip it on before his mouth is on my nipple again. He could probably send me over the edge just like this if he tries hard enough. Two of his fingers slip between my legs and rub gently. He gets a small sound from me in return and I rock my hips to match his movement. His fingers slide inside me, making sure I'm ready, which is fairly unnecessary by this point but he's a considerate lover. After a few more moments, he pushes my knee up with one hand and guides himself inside me with the other.

I always enjoy this first moment with him, the first spark of electricity, and I always think 'I can't believe I get to do this with him'. He leans down to kiss my neck, propping himself on one elbow and slipping his other palm under my back pulling me to him. Dean's lovemaking tends to veer more towards romantic than one would suspect but never crosses into weirdly corny. Considering my past experiences with one or two overly syrupy lovers, I'm extremely grateful for that. He moves now with deep, rhythmic strokes, more rocking than thrusting, barely pulling out at all but always hitting the exact right spot within me. He's keeping me pinned with his body but he doesn't mean it as a display of power. We both like the closeness – the feeling of skin on skin, the feeling of being embraced.

He nuzzles my neck, his breath coming in hot little puffs against my skin, his short dark-blond strands tickling my chin. I stroke his sides, trailing my fingers gently over the sensitive skin surrounding the stitched up gash. He muffles a little pleased groan against my collarbone and lifts his head to kiss me.

"I have the biggest crush on you," I mutter when he releases my lips. He breaks into a grin that threatens to split his face and kisses me again, harder. It seems I've struck the right cord somewhere. I stroke the back of his neck and then trail my hands down his arms. They're shaking slightly from the effort of holding him up and I'm reminded that he's just back from a hunt and probably exhausted. Adrenalin and sex drive will only take you so far, so I take pity and use the fact that we've paused to push gently at his shoulder, guiding him onto his back and rolling on top of him. He obliges me readily, his hands sliding down to my hips as I straddle him. He looks very young like this, eyes half-closed and lips slightly parted. I lean forward, putting my hands on his shoulders, and resume the rhythm, gradually speeding up and tightening and loosening my muscles around him. He gasps when I first do it and gives me a mock-accusatory look through hooded eyes.

"You're not playing fair. You can't catch me off-guard like this after a hunt and expect me to be up to my usual standards. If you're gonna do that…" His words are coming a little breathlessly.

"What?"

Naturally, I do it again. His eyes slip shut for a moment and his grip on my thighs tightens. "Now, that's just wicked."

Normally, he would make sure I finish before him or with him but circumstances are a little against him today and I'm not making it easy. With a lot of my weight on his shoulders, it's difficult for him to reach for what he knows are my weak spots. I chuckle. "Don't be such a control freak and let me win this round. I promise to strike it from the record and you can always get back at me later." Without breaking the pattern of my strokes, I bend down to kiss his nipple and tug gently with my teeth, throwing his own tricks back at him. He's not as crazily sensitive there as me but sensitive enough. I look up just in time to see him mouth 'sonofabitch' and bite his lip. As I repeat the same on the other side, he shudders and sucks in a sharp breath, hands balling into fists as he lets himself go. I wait it out, kissing his neck and running fingers through his hair. His hips buck against mine for a few more strokes before he relaxes and lets his head fall back against the mattress. He releases a long breath before opening his eyes.

"Why, you little vixen."

"You're welcome," I say through a grin as I move gently off him.

"I haven't said thank you yet."

He pushes himself up into a kneeling position with surprising speed, considering his head must still be reeling and tosses the condom into the bin by the bed. He catches me around the waist, turns me around and pulls me into his lap so that my back is leaning against his chest, my knees on either side of his. One arm wraps around me to both hold me in place and cup my breast while the other one sneaks down and starts rubbing quick small circles.

"That's an elaborate 'thank you'," I manage as I arch against him and tip my head back to rest on his shoulder.

"Just being polite."

He's getting back at me, all right. My body is practically writhing under his touch and my breath is coming in short gasps as I can feel the build-up. It doesn't take much as I was very nearly there to start with. He presses a little harder and my muscles contract, dragging an involuntary sound from my lips and sending tingly waves of warmth through my body. He plants lazy kisses on the back of my neck until my body relaxes completely. Then he lifts me off him and lowers me down before lying next to me on the queen-sized bed. He looks content now, even happy. I have been waiting for this moment when he's more relaxed to properly talk to him but now I think better of it. He's far too tired and, frankly, so am I. Plus, I have no desire to spoil his mood by bringing Sam up. It will have to wait until tomorrow.

"I might not be up to moving right now," he mutters.

I laugh. "Go to sleep." I kiss his slightly scruffy cheek and sit up.

"Where are you going?"

"Well, you didn't expect me to stay the night, did you? I'm joking, sugar," I say when he just blinks at me. "I'm just going to brush my teeth."

By the time I'm back, cleaned up and in what goes for my pyjamas, he's managed to pull on a pair of boxers, plug his phone to charge next to the bed and fall asleep. I crawl next to him and I'm asleep pretty soon too.

 **TBC**

 **A/N:** I will be very grateful for reviews :)


	2. Chapter 2

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p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;"Completely contrary to my intention – and my expectations, considering just how knackered he seemed the previous night – Dean wakes up a good while before me. By the time I open my eyes, he's showered, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, and he's chopping pickles with a machete at the small desk in the room./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;""What in devil's name are you doing up so early?" I mumble, stretching./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;"He turns to me and smiles. "It's nine."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;""Yeah, but we didn't go to bed until four."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;"He shrugs and hands me a paper plate with a monstrous sandwich and a mug of coffee. I sit up against the headboard to take them./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;""You're serving me breakfast in bed?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;""I'm awesome that way. And we still have pie for desert." He dumps the pile of pickles he's just chopped on his own sandwich and settles next to me, cross-legged on top of the covers with his plate in his lap. I wriggle out of the sheets and copy him./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;""This, I have to admit, is a damn good sandwich," I say after taking a bite./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 379.4pt;"He beams a little. "Hey, sandwiches are my area of expertise."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""I thought that primarily referred to eating them."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Usually."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Even more appreciated, then." I kiss his cheek./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""It's your food."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""But it's your sandwich expertise."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;"He snorts. We chew and sip coffee silently for about a minute before he speaks again./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""June…" He pauses and licks his lips. It's a nervous habit. He's considering his next words. "Thanks," he says finally. "You know, for showing up here. You didn't have to."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Did you want me to?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""You have no idea." His voice is light, almost jokey, but his eyes are serious./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""You didn't ask."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""I don't think I have the right to ask you to drive over from a different state to keep me company."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""That depends on how much you want company and what you're willing to offer in return." I keep my voice light, too, and wink at him./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""What am I offering? Let me see… Every vile creature in history trying to waste you and the worst luck in the world sound good? That's the standard Winchester package. If you want to go deluxe we can add all the forces of Heaven and Hell on your ass, too."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Sounds brilliant. I could stay, you know."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Here?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;"I shrug. "Wherever. I could stay with you. But I'm not sure you want me to. You've been really tepid, no enthusiasm for my presence at all. I mean, you have a room all to yourself and you don't invite me over, I have to invite myself. Then you look down on my pickles which, by the way, you obviously have no qualms about eating. You spend five whole minutes with me under the shower without making any passes… Clearly you have no interest in me and you would probably hate having me ar- Mph!" I chuckle against his lips and lean into the kiss which has interrupted my speech./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;"He pulls away and gives me half a smile. "I appreciate the offer, Junie. I really, really do. But it's … probably not a good idea."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Why?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""There's kind of a lot of crap going on right now, I don't want to drag you into it."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;"I roll my eyes. "Seriously? The 'I don't want to put you in danger' comic book hero speech? The thing is, Mr. Wayne, not only do I know your secret identity but I'm kind of already in the bat cave dressed in spandex. I'm not sure how much more into it I can get."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""So you're Batgirl?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""No. She was a bit lame. Catwoman more likely."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""She was a villain."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""It's not my fault classic comics suck at coming up with female characters that are both non-evil and non-crappy."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Fair point. Either way, you do realise heroes never actually end up in normal relationships, right?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""You have an overly narrow definition of normal. Here's a shocker – for all intents and purposes we're dating, Dean. You don't want to call it that – fine – but it has started to transcend 'fuck buddies'. Call it 'having multiple consecutive one-night stands, often involving breakfast, lunch and dinner, watching bad TV together, sharing highly personal information, worrying about each other and having a pretty good track record of returning each other's calls' if it makes you feel better but all of that registers as a pretty normal relationship to me. And, either way, we're already involved enough to be targets for each other's enemies."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;"He goes sombre at my last words./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""You're probably right." He pauses. "Maybe we should un-involve ourselves a bit."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;"I groan. "Trust the man to deliberately misinterpret me."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""June, I'm serious," he says, sounding upset but with an alarming note of resolve creeping into his voice. "I thought if it was only once in a while, if I wasn't really part of your life, then maybe I could let myself… have this for a little while without hurting anyone, but..."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Nobody's hurt, Dean. Certainly not because we're having sex and eating sandwiches together."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;"He shakes his head. "They'll come for you if you stick around me. They always do. You don't have to deal with this sort of shit, you and your parents are damn near normal."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;"I put my plate and cup away and shift to face him. "Babe, 'they' came for me when I was ten, remember? Long before I knew you and back when my family and I hadn't even heard of hunting. 'Normality' doesn't seem to help. If it did we'd have very few people to save. I chose this. I like my job. I like my batshit crazy family – and they are batshit crazy, thank you very much. I like you, too." I ruffle his hair. "And I'm worried about you. Less that you'll get your ass kicked and more that you're not happy. Even more – that you may give up on trying to be."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Oh, Junie… Look, I tried, didn't I? Being a hunter and a boyfriend and a dad all in one – I tried it. Look where it ended. I know how this goes."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Beg your pardon, sugar, but you don't know how it em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"goes/em. You know how it em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"went/em. Once. I'm not Lisa, Dean." He stiffens at the name and I sigh. "I'm not Lisa," I repeat. "That's just it, isn't it? I might be more suitable and easier to fit into this life but I'm not the all-American suburban girl, I'm not an escape, I'm not the dream."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Is that what you think? That I was with her because she represented some idea? She was a real person, June! A real woman that I… that I loved and put in danger and disappointed. She tried. She tried very hard, harder than she should have. Do you have any idea what it's like to watch someone risk so much, sacrifice so much for you, give you so many chances and know that you've still let them down in the end?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 277.35pt;""Okay, here's what. One, you didn't let anybody down. Shit sometimes just happens. Two, I'm sorry for implying Lisa was a cardboard cutout. I know you really loved her and I know she deserved it. In fact, it's blatantly obvious you still care about her. But if you think I've got even a snowball's chance in Hell of meaning as much to you as her or Sam or Bobby one day, then you should give us a proper shot and ask me to stay. I know what I'm doing, cut me some slack. I can handle this life and I don't need you to choose between me and Sam. If you are my family he will be, too, and we'll find a way to make it all work out. Now, if it's not me you want, that's all right – I don't do unrequited. But you shouldn't be alone and you don't deserve to spend your life feeling like something's missing. Now I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened and go cut that pie, okay? And you think about it. It's an open offer for now." I kiss his forehead and hop off the bed, feeling like I've done my best for the time being, at least as far as arguing goes. There are, of course, other ways to soften him up, too./p 


End file.
